


Cold Nights and Warm Hearts

by Stackthedeck



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), It's all fluff, Knitting, M/M, No beta we fall like Crowley, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), sheep aziraphale (good omens)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-22
Updated: 2019-06-22
Packaged: 2020-05-16 16:58:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19322332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stackthedeck/pseuds/Stackthedeck
Summary: It's a cold rainy night in London. That's rather redundant so, it's a night in London. Crowley is caught up in the rain and needs a place to warm up. Aziraphale might have a solution or two.





	Cold Nights and Warm Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this in a fit of passion but, I had a lot of fun. This is based off my two favorite head canons. 1. Aziraphale knits, is very good at it, and makes gifts for his friends. 2. Aziraphale's true form (divine fursona) is a ram because, sheep are holy symbols in Jewish and Christian texts. ex. a ram being sacrificed instead of Issac, sheep being sacrificed to purify one's self of sin, Jesus is the lamb of God etc. Anyway, I really enjoyed writing this and I hope y'all like reading it!

It is a cold and rainy night in London but, that’s rather redundant. It is a night in London. It’s early January, the rain is heavier, the wind bites harder. Only demons could bare to be out in such weather. Crowley walks down the street, pouting as his hair and clothes are soaked. The Bentley had been towed and he just didn’t have the energy to find it, break it out of some car lot, and drive all the way back to his flat. He’d take care of it in the morning, for now he’s only a block from his desired destination.

The sign on the door of the bookshop is flipped to closed but, that doesn’t stop Crowley from bursting inside. Aziraphale is sitting on a plush sofa with fire blazing in the fireplace. He has a book in his lap and a cup of hot chocolate on a table, he is neglecting both, instead focusing on the knitting needles in his hands.

“Hey, angel,” Crowley announces upon entry. He’s shivering and has a stupid grin on his face.

Aziraphale looks up from his work, scanning Crowley up and down, taking note of the puddle he’s creating on the floor. “Crowley,” he says and returns to his knitting.

Crowley pops down in front of the fire, getting as close to it without burning himself. He shucks off his drenched jacket and kicks off his shoes. Aziraphale glares at him but, Crowley just continues to warm himself by the fire.

“Oh it’s hell out there.” He runs his hands through his hair, wicking away some moisture.

“I don’t think it’s that cold outside,” Aziraphale chuckles, more to himself than Crowley.

“What are you working on, Angel?” Crowley stretches himself across the floor and grabs the end of the project. It seems to just be a very long black strip of fabric. Nothing more than a skinny scarf. (Crowley quite likes them but, Aziraphale has vowed never to make one).

“I’m almost finished with it, my dear.” Aziraphale pats his head like one would an impatient child.

“Where’d you get this?” Crowley pokes the ball of yarn at Aziraphale’s feet with a smirk.

Aziraphale huffs, scandalized. “The store.” He shoos away Crowley. Crowley yawns and coils himself into a shivering mass by the fire. “Wouldn’t it be easier to warm up if you were...you know?”

Crowley remove his glasses, wiping away the last bits of rain water from them. He sets his glasses down on the table then dramatically rolls his eyes at Aziraphale. “You mean like this?”

Crowley’s clothes melt away, his skin morphs into black and red scales, his already lanky body elongates until, Aziraphale has a giant redbelly snake coiled up on his rug.

“Yes, just like that.” Aziraphale smiles fondly at the snake. The snake flicks his tongue and looks as angry as a snake can. Aziraphale makes a few more stitches then takes his knitting off the needles. “Are you still cold?”

“Yesss,” Crowley hisses, slithering closer to Aziraphale. 

“I think you’ll like this.” Aziraphale stretches the end of the strip of the fabric, revealing it’s actually a tube. Crowley tries not to show his excitement, not too difficult, given he’s a snake. He slithers through the sweater tube and finds himself warmed to the bone (both by the fine craftsmanship and the kind gesture). Only his head and the tip of his tail are left out.

“Does it fit?” Aziraphale pinches at the fabric, inspecting for holes and stretching. “I can make you another one if it doesn’t fit.”

“It’sss perfect, angel.” Crowley rubs his snake head against Aziraphale’s hand. He slithers back to the rug and coils himself back by the fire. Aziraphale watches him for a moment before returning the black yarn to his yarn basket. He picks out some fun colors, remembering the Them (He’s pretty sure at least one of the children has a birthday soon).

“Angel?” Crowley says sleepily.

“Yes, my dear?” Aziraphale hasn’t even put the yarn on the needles yet.

“I’m ssstill cold.” Crowley withers around the rug and does the best puppy dog eyes that a snake can muster.

“What would you like me to do?” Aziraphale tries to hide a smile. “I already made you a sweater.”

“Perhapsss,” Crowley hisses, “Another layer of wool?”

Aziraphale sighs happily and places his yarn and needles on the table next to his cold coco and Crowley’s sunglasses. His curly hair, growing in thickness and length, spreads over his whole body. Bumps protrude out of his temples, spiraling into big brown horns. His arms and legs shorten, his hands and feet morph into hooves. A handsome ram stands on the sofa, eyeing the snake.

“Is this what you wanted?” Aziraphale says.

“Yesss,” Crowley hisses, smiling. He moves off the rug and Aziraphale lays down in the center. Crowley slithers into his wool coat, resting his head on Aziraphale’s horn.

“B-better?” Aziraphale bleets.

“Much.” Crowley flicks his tongue in the sheep’s ear. Aziraphale shakes his head, almost throwing the snake off him. They readjust themselves and settle into a peaceful evening, listening to the rain and the fire crackle.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading! leave a comment or Kudos if you enjoyed, they make my day!


End file.
